The winds of change
by Stwolfgang 'Peas' Ambrose
Summary: Armello faces hardships never before experienced in its history. As the king slips further into a strange seclusion, how will the clans he united respond? Can Armello survive the turbulent changes that threaten to rip it apart? Or will the kingdom collapse and shatter once more.
1. Chapter 1

Wind whistled through the opened windows of the barren throne room; at its centre stood a wolf, a rabbit, a rat, and a bear, the representatives of the four clans. The wolf stood tall, proud, a blue tunic with a white, eight point star covered his chainmail armour. He was Thane, the prince of the Wolf Clan, the Winter Wolf. To his right stood the rabbit representative. Elegant and graceful, she stood with a light yellow umbrella in one hand, and scroll in her other. She wore a rather frivolous dress, especially in comparison to the other representatives; but this reflected her status at the council and within the court. Her name was Amber, the Far Seeker. Once the heiress to a powerful noble family; she now seeks adventure, though her courtly duties keep her grounded in Armello. Next to her stood a rather short, though dapper, rat. Through one ear the rat had two gold ring piercings, while he wore a slight grin on his face. Upon his white shirt he wore a rose brooch, which held his red cape together. He was the Grinning Blade, Mercurio. Quick wit, and a fine taste for woman, the Grinning Blade has a host of fans, and enemies; but that's the price of being a rat. Finally beside Mercurio stood the largest of the representatives, a bear of a size that could rival that of the king. She stood amongst the representatives humbly, looking at the king, waiting for him to speak. In her hands was a gnarled staff equal to her height, a crook in the top surrounding a wyld infused spirit stone. She was Sana, the Forest Sister. A shaman and sorceress, she is both humble, and kind, though determined to her duty to serve nature.

And opposite them all, sitting upon a grandiose throne elevated above them all by a few steps was the king himself. He was much larger than most of the delegates, a lion who had united the clans under one banner in his hayday. Upon his head sat the royal crown, crafted by rabbit smiths, smelted from rat gold, blessed by bear mages, and gifted to the king by the wolves. Upon his body he wore the golden armour reserved for the king beneath his purple cape.

Forty minutes had passed since the council had convened; forty minutes had passed and nothing had been said. But the delegates still stood tall, waiting for the king they had pledged allegiance to. A few more seconds would pass before the king opened his mouth to speak in his low, grumbling tone.  
"Why are you all here?" The four delegates looked at each other in surprise, the king had called the council, why would he be asking why they were there?  
"With all due respect, your majesty. You called the council." The wolf spoke up, his tone cautious to avoid setting the king into a rage.  
"I never did such a thing," the king rubbed his chin, he was deep in thought. "This must be a plot. To seize my throne! Begone, all of you, before i call upon the guards!" There was slight mumbling from the rat, but the delegates agreed, bowing slightly before leaving the throne room.

Now sitting alone upon his throne, the king gazed across the barren throne room at the closed oak doors. What was going on? What had happened to his throne room? Where was the blue, yellow, red, and green banners that had flown down the walls from the vaulted ceiling far above? The stained glass windows that had kept the wind out of the keep? Or the purple tapestries that had shown his story to unify the clans? What had happened to the king himself? The once proud, gracious, intelligent, and powerful king who had united the clans, and had been a symbol of unity. Oh how far he has fallen from grace, a symbol of unity he was no more. He felt different, distant, something must have been changing him; something that he could not let anyone find out about. So reluctantly the aging king stood and made his way across the throne room, slowly, there was a slight discomfort whenever he took a step. It took him a few minutes to cross the barren room, but eventually he made it. Using what little energy he had left, the king grabbed the sliding lock and pushed it into place, falling over in the process. With a heavy thump, and a heavy grunt, the king collapsed to the cold marble floor.

Thane, Amber, Mercurio, and Sana dispersed and went their separate ways once they were all out of the throne room. Thane headed north, leaving the capital of Armello to head towards the imposing Lycanthrope mountains of the north. Amber found herself heading west; out across the plains towards the small town of Rivermire to rest and gather her thoughts. Mecurio headed south towards one of the most infamous brothels in the capital; a key safe house for those of high importance within the rat clan. Finally Sana headed east, leaving the capital behind to return to the forests the bear clan called home. As these heroes dispersed, and the dark of night began to spread across the skies, the winds began to change. They no longer came in from the south, but instead they began to blow in from the north.

Change was on the horizon; can Armello weather the coming storm?


	2. Chapter 2

The forests of the kingdom were always dangerous for the lonely traveller; bandits using the cover to ambush merchants and travellers. However there has been a revolution, the seven bandit clans united under one banner, under one king. However the title 'king of the bandits' would mislead those who would assume the king really was a man. Nay, the king of the bandits is the charismatic fox daughter of a nobleman who had sold her into one of those clans for his own freedom. Scarlet, the Bandit King, had something that none of her predecessors had, and that was a vision. In the many groups of ragtag killers, and pessimistic no-hopers she saw something; she saw potential, she saw the future of the kingdom. Many citizens of Armello wouldn't dare give these lost souls a second thought, let alone the time of day; but Scarlet listened to them, she knew that all these lost souls needed was a second chance. The bandit king herself was quite the dashing fox; something she would use to help keep the attention of her ruffians. She wore a low cut, black and white gypsy dress; as well as a gold necklace and bracelets. On her waist she carried a leather scabbard to holster her cutlass whenever she did not need to use it.

It was during her unification of the clans she had met three capable outcasts, thrust into the bandit clan because of necessity, or circumstance. Her right hand man best known as the Iron Poet, Horace. Horace was an imposing knight, an ancient one who had served beside the king back when he was but a prince. He was a badger, protected by his heavy plate armour; over which he wore a white cloth tabard emblazoned with a red stripe down the centre. Horace was best known as the ninth knight of the order of the rose; he was also known as the gatekeeper of Herald's pass. Yet his accolades and triumphs did not prevent him from falling victim to a great betrayal at the hands of his brothers in the Order of the Rose. Despite his undying loyalty and deep seated honour, they still tried to lay their brother low. Horace remembers the morning they had come for him, his brothers and sisters armed with ten, gold and blue halberds. Fleeing so as not to spill the blood of his brothers and sister, Horace withdrew from the royal court and disappeared into the forests and inns that would accommodate him. Now Horace bides his time, patiently awaiting for his time to return to the palace. Diligently and religiously caring for his armour, or writing poems between jobs.

Sylas is the bandit king's brutal hammer, the lanky brown otter's past too devastating to share. Sylas would wear a chainmail tunic, as well as some dark purple cloth over the top. On this cloth, the jolly roger was plastered across. Upon his back he wears a thick cloak of fur, a cloak he had made from the skinned corpse of a kingsguard he had brutally executed. Driven by revenge, and perhaps otherworldly forces, Sylas has earned a fearsome reputation and the title 'Fisher of souls.'

And finally there was the 'Little light paw,' Twiss. The small tan squirrel was perhaps the best thief in the kingdom. Her large, bushy tail bigger than the rest of her body. She wore a matching black mask and cape while wielding a rather large dagger, the hilt designed to resemble an acorn. The little light paw started out scumming out a living in the slums of the royal capital, something her quick wits, and even quicker agility allowed her to do with ease. As time went on the thrill of the score resonated within the tiny bandit and her passion bloomed. As her talent blossomed, no lock would be safe, no case unbreakable, no score unliftable. Her legend spread thanks to her iconic calling card; a single acorn, left in place of what had just been nicked. Before long she would be enlisted into one of the thieves guilds, very swiftly ascending into the upper echelons of the guild. Sadly the deteriorating state of the king would incite paranoia in the sovereign and a purge would be executed against the thieves of the capital. A purge that was so absolute, so thorough, Twiss barely escaped with her life. Now deep inside the smallest of bandits; a fire clamouring for vengeance burned bright.

* * *

 **Five days earlier;**

* * *

"And so the stage is set, and all the pieces are in place. Horace, follow Thane and make sure he does not return to his clan grounds after the council meeting." The heavily armoured badger nodded once in response before he left the tent; battle axe strapped to his back, a pack slung around his shoulder. "Twiss, I need you to keep Mercurio in the capital; we need to get him denounced and that bounty placed on his head." Twiss grabbed her iconic dagger before running out of the tent after Horace. "Finally Sylas, I need you to kill the bear. She cannot be allowed to interfere once the revolution has begun." The lanky otter wore a demented smile as he methodically ran a paw over his barbed fishing spear. Picking it up he swiftly made his way out of the tent. "And that leaves me the rabbit. If my senses do not betray me; she loves the thrill of exploration. I will have to stick to the caves and dungeons then." Nodding once, the bandit king grabbed a bundle of four letters; the royal insignia, as well as the clan ensigns, one on each letter, was stamped onto them. Leaving her tent, Scarlet walked over to the pens where the clan held their pigeons. Grabbing four of the small, white birds, she tied one letter to each of the birds and sent them off. The letters would arrive at the corresponding clans soon enough.

Walking back towards her tent, the bandit king reflected on the progress they had made. Horace had done his best to train the cutthroats how to fight, but his efforts had been effectively worthless. This revolution was going to have to be swift, and would have to happen without any interference from the king's puppet clans. There was no way her 'militia' of outcasts and criminals could fight the wolves, bears, rabbits, and the royal guard. While the rats, opportunistic as they were, might be swung to her side; the chance of that happening with Mercurio being as influential as he was, was extremely unlikely. Scarlet would have to eliminate him, or his influence, first.

* * *

Our kingdom sits on a knife edge.  
I feel them coming from all sides.  
Circling my throne like vultures around a carcass.  
A kingdom I built.  
A kingdom I may be tearing apart.

If I am to fall at the hands of an assassin.  
I will make sure they taste Pride's Edge,  
As they strike the fatal blow.


End file.
